


The Game

by I_Write_Smut_Not_Tragedies



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Super fluffy Jim, had this character in my head for a long time, i dunno, love it or hate it at least the muse will shut up
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-30
Updated: 2019-03-18
Packaged: 2019-07-20 20:22:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 19,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16144805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_Write_Smut_Not_Tragedies/pseuds/I_Write_Smut_Not_Tragedies
Summary: A complete AU that is somewhat cannon with series one and two and borrows unashamedly from series three and four. An alternate universe where some people are gifted with abilities. Jim Moriarty has a plan all worked out; he is going to infiltrate St. Bart's and work his way to meeting Sherlock. But, what happens when he meets the other girl in the lab? What if she's more than she seems? Sherlock isn't the only one who's his equal. After more than a few encounters, he is left with a choice; give it all up or finish The Game.In a world where essentially nothing is impossible, see what happens when a second chance is granted. Will it be Game Over on this replay?





	1. Let's Start This Off With a Bang

**Author's Note:**

> I don't even know, just something I've been toying with for a while. Enjoy!  
> Please read and review!

All good stories have an epic beginning. This one starts with a head shot. No, not That head shot; that one comes much later. No, this one was the murder of Steve Williamson, St. Bart's hospital newest IT guy. Why, you ask? Simple. He was in the way. There was someone who wanted his position more than he did. Jim Moriarty sighed as he wiped his hands with a white linen handkerchief in disgust. Tossing the gun and the cloth to his right hand man, Sebastian Moran, he walked out of the building sighing.   
“Well, that was a lot less fun than I thought it would be. I do so hate getting my hands dirty. Are we all set?” Moran nodded, opening the door to the black car and climbing in behind his boss.  
“Cellphone, new falsified identification, including your work Ids, keys to your temporary flat, all included. Happy hunting, boss.”  
Moriarty chuckled as the car left the scene of the crime. Oh, this was going to be fun!  
The Next Day:  
Getting into Sherlock's pet Pathologist's lab had been painstakingly easy, since their entire OS had been wiped last night in an accident. The head Pathologist, Molly something-or-other had been more than happy to open the door and get him to start working on the main computers; he was currently hidden under the main console, working, but mostly spying. The other Forensic Pathologist was less than friendly to him, especially when he asked what happened to fry the system so thoroughly.   
“Intern made a homemade EMP...” She replied, speaking right over soft-spoken little Molly, who just nodded along with her at the end. They were clearly hiding something. Molly excused herself so she could bring reports in. Now he was all alone with the younger pathologist. He could break her in a minute. He was about to come out from under the computer console, (easier to seduce or intimidate when one is standing), and hear all about it when no one other than Sherlock Holmes swept heroically into the room with his little lap dog, John Watson, trailing along behind him. He stopped right in front of the girl and the computer console.   
“Mira, I need ten hearts, and twelve index fingers with the nail removed in this cooler. Now.” He heard a thunk on the metal slab that was undoubtedly said cooler.  
Ah, working another case, I wonder if it's one of mine.  
The reply he heard was quite unexpected.  
“John, lovely to see you.”  
“Uh, what? I need hearts, Mira!”  
John sighed deeply.   
“Hi, Mori; still ignoring Sherlock, I see.”   
“Yup. Molly should be in shortly, though so feel free to wait, John.”  
“How long are you going to stay mad at me?”  
“How long are you going to be an asshole? Really, Sherlock, calling me by the wrong name just so I would respond?” He sighed, taking a deep breath. “Morgana Isobel Masters, Mori for short. The youngest Forensic Pathologist in her field to date. Age 23. Graduated high school at 14. Best friend and roommate to Molly Hooper. American, Southern, 5'2, IQ of-”  
“That's enough!” She interjected and Jim sent a text to Moran to get a dossier written on both pathologists, immediately.  
“Besides, the fact that you have a file on me is extremely creepy; all I'm looking for is an apology. Someone could have gotten hurt. Molly will be back in a few; you're welcome to wait.” With that, she walked back over to the console and the chairs behind it. Sherlock's voice softened and Jim craned his neck to listen.  
“Mori, I am... Sorry.”  
“I know Sherlock, and I'll forgive you, next time you come in demanding body parts.”   
She sat in the back near him, and he hummed a little in excitement when he realized it was a blind spot for the cameras. Jackpoooot!   
She's sitting in the chair, so close to where he's 'working' on the console that he can hear her quiet breaths as she picks up her book, (Oh, a Poe fan!), turns to the right page and begins to read. Every now and then, she stops reading to talk with the two men, and he's actually impressed that she can carry on two different conversations at once; excluding him, and Sherlock, not many people can.  
Sherlock clears his throat and she looks up from her book, sighing.  
“Yes?”  
“Did you do what I asked?”  
“Do I ever?”  
“No, but there's a first time for everything.”  
“I'm not as good at this as you are.”  
“Try me.” He says quietly, sitting at one of the high chairs in the lab. She sighs, standing up and walking over to the two men. Jim maneuvers himself so he can see through the tiny seam in the console casing and watches them, curiously. Mori cocked her hip on the metal examination table, smoothing the wrinkles out of her black suede skirt.   
“What I am about to say never happened and I do not have a lab report that I am withholding for your brother.” At their nods, she unwraps a Dum Dum sucker, and puts it between her lips, sucking on it briefly before taking it out and beginning.  
“The victim was shot twice in the chest and once in the head, the way most specialists, police, and ex military dispatch people. Our suspect is ex military and now in special forces, but it doesn't fit. This was cold and calculated; if this was truly a crime of passion, the entire clip would have been emptied into her... Also, a man that's very job is making people never be seen again leaves his murdered wife in her car in plain view of everyone in the neighborhood? Doesn't fit. Also, the word 'Whore' was carved into the dashboard next to her. The knife strokes are too careful, too precise, too uniform. This was not done in a hurry, and if you just killed your wife, you wouldn't take the time to make it pretty. You just found out your wife is cheating on you, and has been for some time. You're not going to worry about making the word legible; you are going to be messy, stab into the dashboard repeatedly. Also, the victim put up absolutely no struggle; she either knew her murderer or she was drugged. If you're cheating on your husband, your body language is tense; her hands were loosely on the steering wheel still; she never saw this coming. Her toxicology reports came back in normal, so I kept looking for higher amounts of natural occurring chemicals found in the human body instead. A high amount of potassium was found in her system; we're talking fatally high. Now, the victim had a potassium deficiency so that doesn't seem right. I rechecked the body for any strange marks and I found the tiniest pin prick behind her right ear; the site of an injection. The killer used a lethal dose of Potassium Chloride, and then shot her to cover up the evidence. You can't check a heart that was stopped forcefully if its destroyed. This was a hit, professional as hell, most likely ordered by her lover. Either she was calling it off, or he wanted to assure secrecy.” She finishes, sucking on her sucker as both geniuses in the room stare at her, mouths open in shock, though she only knows about the one, as the other is still hidden. Sherlock applauds her.   
“Very good, but you forgot to mention who her lover is.”  
She frowns, her nose wrinkling in concentration.   
“I don't know who her lover is; there was nothing on the body, no jewelry or cell phone even to give any clues.” She finishes as he pulls out a diamond bracelet, she takes it gently. Should have known he'd withhold evidence.  
“Cartier, well beyond the means of her husband. White gold, gaudy, thirty diamonds. You're looking for a business man that has recently gotten a promotion, bought a new car, new house. Do you think this is one of your crime ring cases?” She asks him as Molly walks back into the room.  
“Hi, Sherlock.”  
“Molly, I need you to fill this cooler with the list.”  
She hesitates, clearly hurt he didn't even say hello, her smile slipping briefly as she walks over and takes it.  
“Oh, okay.” Going into the back, she gets to work. Mori glares at him.  
“We talked about this... you have got to be nicer to her. And, I have no idea. It is possible that a business man found a hit man on his own, but this level of professionalism, screams one of yours. Also, let Frosty know to get his man out of jail; he's innocent.” She hands him the file and the bracelet, popping the candy back into her mouth. “A bracelet like this has been insured in store; go to Cartier and have them look up who bought this exact one; the number is on the clasp. You'll get a name and an address. Find him, put pressure on him, and he will talk. If he's killed before you get to him then its a cover up and it was one of yours; either way, you get your answer. ”   
Molly walks back into the lab with the cooler, handing it to him and washing her hands.   
“Here you go, Sherlock.” He was about to take it when he noticed a glaring Mori as she motioned to Molly.   
“Th-Thank you, Molly.”  
She paused, beaming at him.   
“You're welcome Sherlock, John; have a nice day.”  
“You too, Molly, Mori.” He nods and they were gone. Molly sighs, melting into the chair they were just occupying.  
“Oh my god.”  
“He said 'thank you'.”  
“He did, you made him.”  
“I did, told him to be nicer to you too. Comments like the 'lipstick' incident will not fly with me here.”  
“How can you talk to him and not be intimidated?”  
“I don't want him to have his wicked way with me; you do.”  
Hmm, ohhh a fellow fan.  
“You don't want anyone to have their wicked way with you,” Molly retorted as Mori laid on one of the clean examination tables, grinning up at her, something he found both erotic and macabre; the contrast of her dark blouse, skirt, tights, and shoes the color of dried blood contrasting with her peaches-and-cream skin, and the fluorescent lights making a halo on her chestnut locks.  
“I refuse to dumb myself down just so some male ego does not get wounded. I need to be interested in someone and they need to be able to keep my interest. Seduce my mind, and my body will follow.” She shrugged, sitting up, standing next to her best friend, her high heels the only thing making her taller than her friend of many years.   
“Did you help him, do you think?”  
“I did the best I could; I'm new to this whole thing.” She admitted.   
His phone vibrated in his pocket, and he pulled it out to check it.  
Got the files, send them now or wait til you get home?- SM  
You know I hate waiting.-JM  
He read through them quickly, immediately deciding against going after the interesting one; she's too perceptive, plus she mouthed off to Sherlock. No, he will choose mousy little Molly Hooper; this should prove to be very fun indeed. First, he needed to set up the perfect excuse for being here a few more days. He waited for them to walk into the back, and slid out from under the console, slipping out of the lab. He calmly walked away, waiting a few more minutes before knocking on the lab door when he saw them. Molly let him in, a warm, friendly smile on her face as Mori sanitized the work stations.   
“Still at it?” She asks him. He nods sheepishly.  
“Yeah, I had to take care of a few other things today; I may need to be back in tomorrow, if that's okay?”  
“Sure, we don't mind the company.”  
They parted ways when the work day ended, and he cracked his neck. His new persona, “Jim from IT” was wearing on his nerves and it was only day one!  
He came home to his flat, immediately stripping out of his plain work clothes with disdain, throwing them in a pile on the floor, before slipping into one of his designer sleep wear sets, still reading the women's files. It's a shame he didn't feel like going after the other female, she would prove to be a welcome distraction; turns out her IQ is just on par with his and Sherlock's. Also, she genuinely intrigued him. Oh well!  
Time to get to work!


	2. Pinning and Pining

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Game is starting... but can he stay away from one of the players long enough to play the other?

Chapter Two:  
The next morning, he's in great spirits, even if he did have to get back into the boring persona of “Jim from IT”. He'd found Molly's blog and read all of it last night; so far he knew three things about her: She was madly in love with Sherlock, she is shy, and she loved cats. Boooooooring! She was the perfect way in to get to Sherlock; kind, sweet, and willing to do anything for a friend in need. Let's exploit the hell out of that, shall we?  
They were already in their lab when he knocked on the door, smiling a shy smile at the both of them. Molly was in Grey plaid trousers with a cute pink cat jumper on top, black ballet flats, non-skid, of course, and her hair in a simple pony tail. Mori wore red skinny dress pants, a white sweater with a black bow on one shoulder, demure yellow heels, and her shoulder length hair half pulled up, her lips the color of fresh blood- not that he noticed. He had just placed the hidden camera so he could listen in when Molly hurried out of the lab, a wide grin on her face. Undoubtedly helping Sherlock.... Mori was in her usual spot, out of the way of the cameras. She'd already done three autopsies today, Molly taking three more as they split up the workload. And it's about to get a whole lot worse, sorry ladies. She was chewing Cinnamon gum today and reading more Poe. Sliding out from under the console, he walked over to her, and she rose an eyebrow at him, putting a bookmark in her book before setting it down.  
“Hey, so I've gotta ask; Poe? Really? Isn't the whole morgue thing creepy enough?” He pretended to shiver a little, looking around. She bit her lip, and that drew his attention to her mouth, his dark eyes flashing before he tamped it down, as she replied, with a light blush on her cheeks.   
“Honestly, it really doesn't bother me. As creepy as most people find it, it's relaxing. I'm a crime buff and a total nerd at heart. I've always wanted to be a Forensic Pathologist, ever since I read about it when I was younger. And as for Poe, well, I like the voice that he gives his work; so disillusioned with humanity, yet determined to stay a part of it. I'm sorry, I'm rambling; I tend to do that a lot. How's the work going?” She asked him, Amber star burst eyes meeting his dark gaze.  
“Oh, it's going great; finishing up now, actually.” With that, he walked back to the console, brushing up against her, grinning madly to himself at the intake of breath he heard. He was done, and about to leave, when he couldn't resist himself.  
“Okay, all set here; do you want to log in and make sure everything works?” She nodded, smiling when he stepped back, letting her stand where he had been moments before. He let her log in, before he closed her into the space quickly, pinning her front to the console. Toying with a wisp of hair that had been framing her face, he leaned down to whisper in her ear, (dear god, she smelled like fresh blood and peaches; two of his favorite scents), his lips brushing against it with every word.  
“I've been a'thinking -isn't that the phrase?- I like your Yankee words and your Yankee ways.” He purred, dropping all traces of Jim from IT's voice, for just a moment. The lines in the poem were appropriate since she was an American after all. Grinning to himself when he felt her knees buckle, he walked away, slipping back into Jim from IT's voice and mannerisms.   
“If you have any problems with it, call me!” And with that he was gone; the door hadn't even shut before he heard her shaky voice.  
“I just swallowed my gum.” He was laughing all the way back to the IT department.  
Mori took a deep, shuddering breath, running a shaky hand in her hair before sitting down weakly in the chair she had been sitting in before. Picking up her book, she put it down again. What the hell was that? It's like he had been a whole other person just then, then it was over in a flash, like nothing had ever happened. Maybe he had just been teasing her; either way, this would be filed under “tell no-one”. Molly came back just in time for Mori to go to lunch, quickly grabbing a chef salad and a soda from the cafeteria. She ate at her small table, her mind still reeling. Walking back into the lab, bringing Molly her food as usual, she froze, seeing him again. Molly grinned at her.   
“Can you cover the evening? Please? I'll take your morning tomorrow so you can sleep, please? Jim's just asked me out for coffee tonight after his shift.” Looking over to him, he was staring at her, one black eye brow raised waiting to see what she would do. Flirts with me, then asks out my best friend... Yeahhhh, I must have over-thought that whole thing before. “Sure, I'd love to, have fun.” Molly squealed excitedly and hugged her tightly. Jim grinned, pretending to jump for joy as he pulled her in for a hug, once again using his real voice to purr into her ear.  
“Coward..” Mori pushed him away quickly, her cheeks crimson. Molly took Mori's hand gently, patting it.   
“Oh, I'm sorry; Mori doesn't like to be touched.” She looked down, suddenly very interested in her yellow shoes.  
“Huh, is that right?” He asked as she looked up at him sharply. Could've fooled me earlier...  
Mori nodded once, walking past him, her scent wafting towards him as she sat in her chair, picking up her book, opening it furiously. Molly grinned like a fool during the whole conversation as he hugged her awkwardly, and then walked back to his department. Mori waited until the door was shut and closed her book.  
I don't wanna know...I don't wanna know...I don't wanna know....  
“Tell me everything.”  
Molly had gushed on and on about him for several hours; apparently he had found her blog through John's and commented, asking her to get a coffee one day, as he was so shy in person. Shy. My. Ass! Deciding that it was really just her nerves around this guy, she kept quiet about her suspicions and nodded along. Maybe, just maybe, this would be the push that she needed to finally get over Sherlock.  
She was exhausted when her shift was finally over, and practically a zombie when she stumbled out of the cab and onto the stoop of her and Molly's building. The elevator ride was one of the slowest of her life, and she damn near fell over opening the door. “M'home,” She called out sleepily, bending down to take her shoes off, standing back up with her heels in her hand, only to come face to face with him, again! Too tired to play games, and not willing to admit how good he looked in a suit, (even if it was a cheaper, ill fitting one) she glared at him. “Am I missing something? Did you move in while I was gone?!” She demanded, her hands on her hips. Looking her up and down, now that she was at her actual height, he licked his lips and tilted his head.   
“No, but give me a month or two; I think I could swing it.” He grinned wickedly.  
“Why does your voice do that around me?” She asked, slowly backing away from the door, and him. He simply shrugged.   
“Also, what game are you playing with me and Molly?” She added, doing her best to stay on task.   
“Partly I want it to, partly I can't help it. Your reaction is priceless, every time. No game.” He shrugged once again, clearly lying. He bent down to pet the gorgeous white cat who was winding back and forth through his legs. Merlin, you traitor...  
“I like her, she's sweet. As for what I'm doing here, we got coffee, had a bit to eat, then she talked me into coming over and watching Glee with her. She fell asleep, I put her in her room, I was about to leave when you walked in.” By now, the cat was on his back, his tummy being rubbed and he was purring up a storm. She rolled her eyes at him, sighing.   
“Alright, stay, don't stay; I'm too tired to care right now. I need food, my bed, and a true crime show.” He smirked, standing up, brushing his hands off.   
“A bit forward, but if you say so.”  
“Sorry, the only pussy you'll be getting tonight is from Merlin.” She gestured to the white cat who meowed and came running to his mistress. Running a foot over his back gently, she turned away from the man, grabbing a few items from the fridge and turning back to him with a knife in her hands. Taking a loaf of french bread and slicing it in half, down the middle, she set the knife down, spreading red sauce on one half, then covering it with mozzarella cheese and pepperoni and sliding it into the oven before turning it on. At his look, she gestured, offering him one and he nodded. Making a second one, she had it join the first. Taking both of them out of the oven, she sliced them in half again, handing him a plate. Dumping his share in a tupperware, she closed the lid, handing it to him.   
“Now beat it; I want to lose the monkey suit.” He rose an eyebrow at her cheekiness as she pushed him out the door, his next meal in his hands. Both of them leaned against opposite sides of the door, for a moment, grinning like fools before walking away.


	3. The Big Reveal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At last playing pretend is over with and the Westwoods can come back into play. He needs to leave that girl from the lab alone...but will he?

Hearing all about Molly and Jim honestly wasn't as bad as she thought it would be, until they had started sleeping together, that is. Then, Molly over-shared and Mori suffered in silence. It had been a couple months now, and Jim was watching his new favorite show; “All My Pathologists”. Molly was currently singing his sexual praises to a very uncomfortable Mori who was slowly turning the color of her blood red blouse.   
“Oh, he's such a gentleman all the time, but then its like primal instinct takes over and then it's purely amazing...” Molly gushed as Mori nodded tightly.   
“Glad to hear he's not a bore in the bedroom.” She sighed, sitting down on one of the high chairs next to the microscope.   
“Meanwhile, I get stood up by someone who begged me to give them a chance; yeah, sounds like my life.” She sighed again, walking back over to the examination tables, hopping up on one and laying down in her usual spot.  
“The only men I see on the regular are the Holmes brothers. It's all so tedious; I need a distraction.” She muttered to herself as Molly announced that she's running reports. Unwrapping a Dum Dum, she popped it into her mouth, mentally going over the latest case of Sherlock's. Pretty damn boring; just a smuggling ring. It was difficult, but now it was done. The body count had been blessedly low too, both good and bad for business. She had way too much time to be alone with her thoughts; this was unacceptable. Sucking on the candy, she didn't hear the lab door open until she heard his chuckle by her head.   
“What is it with you and skirts and laying on this table?” He had one hip cocked on the table, close to her cheek and she sighed as she prepared to sit up. He leaned down, both arms caging her in, looking into her eyes.  
“No, no. Don't get up on my account. Bad day?” He asked.  
“Bad week. Sherlock tried to help my mood by making a dating profile for me. But he mentioned that I don't like to be touched; this includes during certain activities are concluded. The freaks are coming out of the woodwork. And then I finally pick the least skeevy one of the lot and he's stood me up.”  
Actually, he was quite dead, Jim thought to himself. He'd been very disrespectful about his intentions when interviewed under duress, of course. Suddenly, the delivery door opened and she sighed once more, sliding off the table.   
“Time for me to work and you to leave.”  
Oh, little one, this is just the start of the game; you'll be very busy indeed.  
Nodding, he left; Molly's next shift, he gets to have his final performance as Jim from IT and finally meet Sherlock Holmes face to face. How exciting! The next hours flew by, a new body every few hours, and apparently all of them had to do with Moriarty. Mori dragged her tired feet into her flat and proceeded to sleep for nine hours. Molly was home and crying when she awoke, and without worrying about dressing, she simply threw on her red silk kimono and rushed to see what was going on.   
“I ended things with Jim. He hit on Sherlock! How could I be so blind? I didn't believe you when you told me you had off vibes about him. He used me!” She sobbed bitterly and Mori sighed, hugging her and gently stroking her hand through her long brown hair.   
“Fuck Jim; take a short holiday, I'll pick up the shifts. 'Game afoot' or not, you need some time off. Go visit your beach. No, I'm not taking a no for an answer. I'm calling Mike right now. Go pack; spend a day or two reading, let this blow over.” She didn't mention the revenge scheme she was planning; Molly would just try and stop her. Molly nodded, hugging her tightly.   
“You're right! I'll ask Meena if she wants to go with me.” She replied, mentioning her other best friend.   
Eighteen more bodies (she thought it was only eighteen) had her forgetting all about her revenge scheme and wanting nothing more than a shower and a good cry in bed. All for some sick game; she didn't really understand it. She tossed her bag on the kitchen table and headed straight for her room. Opening the door, she noticed how dark it was, flicking the light switch on, then groaning when nothing happened. She was in front of her bed about to switch the light on at the fan when a pair of strong arms pulled her backward onto the bed. The light flicked on suddenly, and she jumped up, glaring. He's in a very fancy suit, his dark eyes finally showing that predatory nature he tried his best to hide. A small smirk is on his lips, and her cat is in ecstasy on the pillow next to him. He gasped lightly at her.  
“Mori, you are a vision in your rage.” She really was. Her hair was tousled, undoubtedly from work, unusual colored eyes flashing, the demure tan sweater with a fox face and a black and tan knee length skirt with clock faces all over it making her look so innocent... He had such an urge to take her right then and corrupt all this supposed innocence.   
“What in the hell do you think you're doing here?”  
He smiled sheepishly.   
“I came to say goodbye.”  
“Goodbye?” She asked him, crossing her arms over her chest, trying not to look disappointed. No! He hurt Molly!   
“Yes,” His accent deepens, his smile all predator, scenting his prey. “You see, my little game with Sherlock is over with, for now; Molly served her purpose. Now, its back to diabolical plans and death. So much death!” He grinned wickedly, tilting his head slightly, watching the realization hit her features. Mmmhm, wide eyes, heavier breathing, ooh racing heart. “Jim Moriarty; pleasure to finally meet you.” He took her hand, brushing his lips across her knuckles and they both ignored the spark that flew between them for an instant. Her knees buckled and she fell onto the bed near him, scooting away immediately.  
“Yo-you're Moriarty?! I've had a crush on the psychopath that's been pulling the strings this whole time!” He chuckled softly at her confession.   
“Aww, I'm honored; you noticed me too.” He drawled, lounging on the bed, his arms crossed behind his head, leaning against the wall.   
“I noticed you, that first day. That sharp wit, you putting Sherlock in his place and then helping him solve one of mine, no less. I was hoping with all of my breaking character around you, you would have at least warned Molly.” He slowly got closer to her, and she backed further away.  
“I tried; she didn't listen. So, what now? Kill me and leave me for Sherlock or Molly to find?” There's a knife under her pillow; if she could just get to it, she could at least defend herself enough to get away. He sighed, his dark gaze piercing hers.  
“Why would I kill you? You interest me far too much. No; I want you-” He leaned forward, pinning her to the opposite wall as she made a dive for the pillow. “On my side. Oh, I'm sorry, were you looking for this?” He grinned, opening the small serrated blade pocket knife and gently running the blade over her neck, leaving the tiniest red lines, drawing no blood. He leaned in and sniffed her hair. Fresh blood and peaches, just like before. He grinned down at her, satisfied with the small mark he'd left on the side of her neck, a small yet distinct M.   
“Well, I'd best be off, unless you want to continue this?” He motions between the two of them with the knife. She glared at him, attempting to kick him somewhere that would hurt.  
“No? Too bad; we wouldn't even have to cuddle afterwards,” He singsonged, catching her leg and then hopping up and away. She didn't waste a second, jumping up and running after him. He's gone, the door locked neatly behind him. First things first, she needed to call a locksmith!  
The next day all hell had broken loose! Molly was called, and Sherlock was determined to track him down, no matter what. She hadn't told anyone about his little house call; she didn't want to draw unwanted attention to herself. Mycroft had arranged for her and   
Molly to go on holiday while his people tore the lab apart, looking for any surveillance equipment. She knew there was some there; how else would he have known about what was said in the lab that first day? The locks on their flat had been changed, and bored to tears being stuck home, she decided to go out for a bit. She slipped on her dark wash skinny jeans, a soft white tank top and an off-the-shoulder soft sweater over that, wrapping the brown and turquoise patterned scarf around her neck (to help hide his mark). She also opted to leave her hair down as well. Slipping into her leopard print Vans, she left the flat. She found her favorite little coffee shop and bookstore combo hidden on a little side street and decided to spend the day there. She took her order from the counter, and found her favorite spot, tucked away among the books. Soon, she'd lost herself in the fantasy of the book, paying less and less attention to her surroundings. She felt him before she even saw him. Sighing, she closed the book, lightly tossing it down.  
“I do so hope you're stalking Sherlock with this much fervor.” She muttered, crossing her arms as he joined her on the love seat. He chuckled, shrugging.  
“No; he's about to be quite busy for a few months at least. Gives me time to play!” He ran the scarf through his fingers. “Still got them, then? It was only a scratch; should only be a few more days.” His phone started to ring, the sound of Staying Alive filling the small shop and causing unwanted attention for both of them.   
“Well, got to go; be seeing you. No more scarves,” He sang, grinning madly. One gentle and deft pull and her scarf was undone and in his hands. Balling it up, he shoved it into the pocket of his designer coat and walked off. She sat there stunned, feeling too exposed in the off-the-shoulder sweater. She was leaving the shop with a small bag full of her purchases (quite a few more romances in the mix than she'd like to admit this time) when the tell-tale black town car pulled up beside her. Anthea poked her head out, smiling a wan smile. She held out an embossed invitation and a black dress bag.   
“He requests your presence this evening. Black tie event.”  
“Distraction or arm candy?” She took the invitation, climbing into the car.   
“Both. There's an Armenian Arms Dealer that's gotten a hold of some sensitive information. Flash drive; he'll be trading it off to another guest tonight for a pretty penny. The trade-off cannot happen. Distract the buyer or the seller, but it will not happen. I'll be coming with as well, wearing the red, of course.” Mori nodded. Anthea always wore the red; didn't matter where or when, but her dress was always some shade of red. They stopped off at a safe house to get ready for the evening's festivities. Her dress was black, hugging her every curve and reaching the floor. The front was rather demure, a thick silver and diamond encrusted halter that wrapped around her neck, and luckily hid the mark; the back was almost non-existent, leaving all of her bare except for two thin straps on her upper and lower back, the dress resuming just above her ass. She swept her hair to the side, using a comb to keep it in place, baring the unmarked side of her neck. She kept her make up sultry yet innocent. Four inch heels completed the look, and she was ready to go. Anthea looks a vision in scarlet, her long dark hair piled on her head, makeup flawless.  
“Well, let's go find our dates,” She remarked as the car came back for them.


	4. A Little Ballroom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They just keep running into each other, don't they? Is it by design or destiny.

Jim sighed with boredom; another boring evening socializing with people that don't deserve his time or effort. A pretty redhead walked his way and he smiled at her coldly. Changing her mind, she walked away quickly. Smart choice, darling. He looked around for the man he was trying to meet; the sooner he can get this done, the sooner he can leave. He was then tapped on the shoulder by none other than Mycroft Holmes, dressed to the nines with a woman on each arm. The woman in red smiled coldly at him, but the woman in black would not look at him.  
Mori cursed Mycroft under her breath, as she stared down at the floor. Of course He would be the buyer she had to distract! She jumped as Anthea not-so-gently pushed her towards him as they walked away, arm in arm. She rolled her eyes and looked at him, not even pretending to be pleased to see him.  
“Fancy seeing you here...” She sighed, feeling super self-conscious of herself in the dress for the first time that night. He grinned at her. “Whatever are you doing here?” He put an arm around her, his hand touching the bare skin on her lower back and causing her to shiver. She stepped away, and grinning he pulled her right back to him.  
“Working; I'm guessing you're my target for the night. You?”  
“Working, being your target for the night; I guess you'll have to keep me entertained.”  
Grabbing her hand, he pulled her close against him, getting into position to dance. Glaring at him, she followed his lead. “So, do you have it yet?”  
“Have what?” He asked her, nuzzling her exposed neck.   
“The flash drive; have you bought it yet?” She asked, her eyes momentarily fluttering closed. He grinned at her reaction to him.  
“No, not yet. I might not either if this little thing in a black dress keeps me stimulated enough.” She sighed, throwing her head back to look at him.   
“What do you want for it?”  
He pretends to think about it for a moment.   
“One kiss.”  
“Hell no!” Her nose crinkled adorably in her rage.  
“Hmm, your boss would jump at the fact I'm being so charitable.”  
She smiled at him then.  
“You're right; lets go find him, I'm sure he'll take one for the team.” She started to turn away, but one firm tug on her hand and she was back in his arms. They both shared a laugh and then she sighed.  
“When are you getting it?”   
“In five minutes; think you can hold my interest that long?” He raised a black eyebrow, challenging her. The music then changed tempo, becoming something sultry and she grinned. “You're on.” They danced the full five minutes, talking and laughing the whole time, neither one of them bringing up a certain amateur detective's name. A man tapped on her shoulder and asked Jim if he would like to walk with him. He raised an eyebrow at her when the man wasn't looking and joined him. Walking away from the dance floor, she found a quiet corner and waited for him to come back. She looked out over the balcony before feeling him back behind her. She turned to face him, leaning against the balcony, her hand outstretched. He had it in his hand, but he didn't hand it to her, not just yet.   
“Ah, Ah, Ah; a deal's a deal.”  
“You were serious?”  
“As the grave.” With that, she was pinned once more and his mouth was devouring hers, swallowing every breathy little sound she made hungrily. The minute their mouths met, it was as if a dam had burst between them, as the agreement for only one kiss was quickly forgotten. She whimpered as he broke off the kiss, dragging his lips down her neck. Gently biting, he sucked a mark onto the other side, making sure it would stay there for quite some time. He had his hands on her bare skin, and her hands were going crazy under his jacket, her nails skimming the edge of his belt. A loud throat-clearing noise broke their shared spell, and she turned crimson as Mycroft smiled tightly at them.   
“Thank you, Doctor Masters; that will be all.” Nodding, she handed him the flash drive and the four other ones that were the actual purchase. Licking her lips, she grinned wickedly at him, leaving the party.  
“Oh, she's good. I'll give her that.” Jim sighed, walking away; yes, he lost a few million quid, but that definitely wasn't boring!


	5. Is Kidnapping Considered Foreplay?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cases and a not so dangerous kidnapping. See what happens the morning after the ball!

Mori sighed dreamily for what must have been the fifteenth time in a row as the big black car drove her home. It figured the only man to stir her blood was a damned criminal mastermind, but dammit that man could kiss! Pressing a hand to her lips to hide a small smile, she exited the car and climbed the building to her flat. She slipped into her room, undoing her dress and letting it pool decadently off of her body; stepping out of it, she hung it up in her closet reverentially. She undid her hair and washed her make up off; now naked, she padded through the flat, coming back to her room. Slipping under her sheets, she laid down, her fingers brushing the soft petals of a flower and a piece of paper that had definitely not been there that morning. Turning on her light, she found a single beautiful Magnolia bloom, pure white, and smelling like heaven and a piece of parchment on her pillow containing the words: 'Until next time. -JM'. The flower was put in water, and the paper hung up near her desk. Grinning, she fell asleep, dreaming about dark eyed men and stolen kisses on a balcony.  
Her phone going off incessantly woke her up and she groaned when she read the 12 missed texts notifications. All of them from Sherlock.  
'Are you awake yet?- SH'  
'It's past 7; you should be up.-SH'  
'I really need to speak with you; there's a case.- SH'  
'It's John; please, he's driving me insane.-SH'  
And so on and so forth. She was willing to ignore it when ding! Her phone went off again. It was from a number she did not recognize.  
You should really get that, might be fuuuuun! -Not Telling ;)  
Hmm, gee, she wondered who that could be. Sighing, she texted the number back.  
How did you get this number?- Memento Mori  
'Remember death', such a wonderful signature; now, stop ignoring the man and go to breakfast.- Still Not Telling ;)  
She sighed, getting out of bed and selecting an outfit for the day.   
'Fine, getting up. Thanks, for the flowers and the note; it was unexpected.-Memento Mori'  
'My pleasure; now, go to the man before he paces a hole in his floor.XD- xxJMxx'  
Sighing deeply, she texted Sherlock back.  
'Fine, I'm up, I'm up; give me twenty minutes and I'll be there.- Memento Mori'  
Her phone went off, and she immediately recognized the tone that hadn't been there five minutes ago.  
'Good girl. -xxJMxx'  
'Really, the noise from Predator?-Memento Mori'  
'I thought it was appropriate. Now, go.-xxJMxx'  
'Bossy...-Memento Mori'  
'Ohh, you have no idea... XD- xxxJMxxx'  
Finally, she put her phone down and went to shower, wondering what other changes he'd do to the smart phone while she was getting ready. She showered quickly, combing through her wet hair as she slipped her choice of clothes on. The faded and worn skinny jeans fit her like an old lover, the thighs and knees practically threadbare, but luckily that is the style nowadays. The soft olive green t- shirt had an attached darker lace halter neck that would cover both marks without being as obvious as a scarf. Slipping into her tan suede ankle boots, she left her hair down, buttoning her black pea coat; she grabbed her phone and her bag, tossing her keys in and locking up. She opted to take a taxi, the air a little too chilly to walk all the way to Baker Street. One knock later and John had let her into the building.   
“He's downright irritating right now; Moriarty's gone silent and this 'The Woman' is driving him up the wall. He took a case to distract himself and now he doesn't even know if he can solve it! It sounds like it might be..” He trails off, suddenly careful of his words. She sighed, taking her coat off and hanging it up on the hook by the door.  
“You think it may be one of mine, like there's abilities in play?” She sighed wearily again, climbing up the stairs to the flat. “Alright, what have we got?”   
The case was super intriguing, she had to give it that, and the breakfast that was prepared and waiting for her was delicious; thank you, Mrs. Hudson. Apparently, a man with a cell phone had walked into a super secret lab and walked out with top secret research. All the guards and scientists had then shot themselves simultaneously; the man who had brought the phone in in the first place, had walked into Scotland Yard, asked for Sherlock Holmes and then promptly had a heart attack and died. The only thing they knew about the voice was that it belonged to a woman. Mori sighed once more, rubbing the bridge of her nose, feeling the impending migraine she just knew this case was going to cause her. Her phone 'Predator-ed' and she checked it.  
'See, I told you it would be worth getting out of bed for. Also when you find her, let me know.- xxJMxx'  
'Why? She owe you money?-Memento Mori'  
'Something like that...-xxJMxx'  
“So, what you're saying is that all the witnesses are dead? So, does that mean what I think that means?” She asked him, tucking her phone back into her back pocket.   
He winced at her question.   
“I just need five to ten minutes with them, all of them. About sixty eight in total.”  
“I'm gonna need that whole pot of coffee.”  
Twenty two hours later, she could go home again; the migraine was most definitely terrible and her eyes hurt so bad she could barely see. She had never temporarily raised so many from the dead before in one sitting. Even with only giving each one a ten to fifteen minute window for questioning, her energy was completely drained. What was even worse than that was she had missed her stop on the tube, so now she would have to walk the few blocks back to her flat. The dizziness hit her the moment she stepped off the curb and into the street; everything spun wildly and then went black as she hit the street, hard.  
Sebastian Moran cursed wildly as he watched the young woman he had been in charge of tailing go down in the street. It was two in the morning and luckily, no one was around when he scooped her up and placed her in the big black car that then drove away hastily. Dialing his boss, he sighed.  
“She passed out in the street; I collected her. Yes, no one saw me; I'm not an idiot. Oh, haha, very funny. Do I take her to her flat or yours? Yes, Sir. Be right there.” Well, that went a lot smoother than he had intended; maybe this one was worth keeping around after all. Jim met them outside his flat (another unexpected occurrence) and insisted on carrying her inside himself. He laid her on his bed, taking off only her heels so she would be more comfortable. Giving Moran a list of clothes to pick up for the next morning, he dismissed him. He pulled his reading chair up next to the bed, and waited for her to wake up. What had started as what would have been a simple interrogation once she woke up now turned to worry as she slept for nearly twelve hours straight. Moran had come in with the extra clothes and then left again, doing whatever he did when he wasn't working for Jim.   
Mori woke up slowly; the first thing she did was reach for the crystal that was no longer around her neck and cried out in alarm. She blinked; she was in a bed that she had never been in before, and the room was strange to her. Okay, what was the last thing you remember? She had been walking home... She'd gotten really dizzy... Oh my god, she'd passed out in the street! Sitting up gingerly, she winced when her head protested the motion. A soft, male, and all too familiar sigh drew her gaze.  
“Take it easy, I'm not gonna hurt you. Your crystal was killing you though; I could see the signs, so I took it off. Summoning all those spirits while wearing your suppressor? Morgana Isobel; I should put you over my knee. You know better than that. I got you a better one; black diamond, should last for a lifetime. Pretty and oh so useful, like yourself.” Jim replied, slowly walking over to her. Well, shit. If him taking her crystal off didn't cause a miniature wave of power to fry all nearby electronics, then it had been truly killing her. She couldn't even feel the surges of power she always had just bubbling at the surface, waiting for an opportunity to come out. Not her fault she ran through crystals like normal people ran through batteries. She had two abilities she tried to keep secret at all times, something almost unheard of in the Abled (people with abilities) community. Licking her dry lips, she attempted to sit up again, this time the searing pain giving away to only a dull ache.  
“How did I get here?”  
“One of my men was out and about and he saw you just as you passed out in the street. He brought you here for safe keeping.”  
“I'm being followed?” By more than just his men. Many people were very interested in the Holmes brothers' 'Black Winged Angel' as they called her.  
“Only a little.” He lied.  
“Can I ask why?”  
He smiled softly at her.   
“You can; doesn't mean I'll answer.”  
She sighed. Her head hurt, she felt weak; she did not feel like being a pawn in their little game.  
“Sherlock?” She asks him, noticing his eyes flare at the mention of the name.  
“God, no! You're good friends with him, sure, and I may use that one day. But you summon spirits, right? That's your ability?”   
He's close, but so wrong... she thought to herself, nodding and deciding it best not to tell the bad guy what she could really do. If he found out what she was he'd either want to use her or kill her, and she found both of those scenarios quite unpleasant.  
“Ya got me.” She sighed, pretending to be distressed about it, even widening her eyes in fear. “Now, what do you want?”  
He tossed her a gorgeous leather messenger bag full of clothes, that surprisingly, she would actually wear.   
“Get dressed and meet me in the office, then we'll talk.” With that, he walks away. She sighed, getting out of bed. Hold on, why are her legs cold... she looked down... I could swear I was wearing jeans. He didn't!   
“Wait! Where the hell are my pants?!”


	6. Criminals Do Not Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of a kidnapping and a date...except its not, but what if it is?

Chapter Six:  
Once the issue of the missing jeans sorted itself out, (she had landed in a particularly nasty puddle, they were being laundered; he didn't look, he swore) she had changed into the very comfortable outfit he had selected for her. It consisted of faded skinny jeans, a slightly off the shoulder quarter sleeve burgundy and cream shirt with a soft burgundy cardigan to go over, and light brown converses. She looked her age, and she had to wonder if he did that on purpose. Braiding a part of her hair, she put the other part up in a messy bun. Time to go speak to the devil himself...  
She did not find his office in the first few rooms she came across, and dear God, how many rooms did this place have...? The sound of his voice speaking lowly and with authority brought her to him as she lightly knocked on the door waiting for an answer.   
“Come in,” He said softly, continuing his conversation.  
“Right, make sure you do that. I'll be in touch.” Hanging up his phone, he tilted his head at her.   
“I need your help.”  
There it was; the reason behind her rescue. Kidnapping? An impromptu sleepover at a consulting criminal's house? She sighed, sitting down in the chair he offered her, crossing one leg over the other.   
“With?”  
“Am I to assume that what I tell you does not come back to Sherlock?”  
“Depending on what you tell me...” She answered honestly; if it was something that would affect them directly then she would tell.  
“Fair enough. I have many aliases, as you well know. One of them is a professor of Astronomy at a local university. I guest lecture, mostly; it gives me time for-”  
“Your criminal empire?” She supplied helpfully.  
“I was going to say 'other pursuits', but yes.”  
“I'm still missing the part where you need me...”  
“You solved my constellation ciphers without even breaking a sweat. This stuff fascinates you. Enough to make it a second major.”  
Okay, that does it.  
“Let me see it.”  
He played innocent, blinking at her, a small smile playing on his lips.  
“See what?”  
“The file you must have on me. Don't you want to make sure it's all correct?” She held out her hand patiently for it.  
Sighing, he reached into the first desk drawer and brought out a decent sized manila folder, handing it to her. She flipped through it promptly.  
“Mostly accurate. Height's off by half an inch, trust me it counts; my birth date is wrong. May 24th, not March. Gemini. IQ is two points shy of Sherlock's and probably yours. Family is definitely estranged. I freelance for Mycroft; I'm not his employee. He got me through medical school faster than usual, I have had all the training and schooling though. What does this last word mean? 'Dangerous?'” She asked him as he quickly jotted down the corrections on a piece of paper before taking the folder back.  
“Nothing, it was an old observation.” He winked at her, putting the folder back away.  
“So, what do you need my help with?” She asked him warily, not so sure she's willing to help him with anything he planned to do.   
“There is a meteor shower tonight; I have a telescope and a spot reserved on The Hill, but no one that I know is into that sort of thing. Would you like to accompany me tonight?”  
“You kidnapped me to ask me on a date?” She tilted her head at his logic.   
“No, actually with our history, that would make sense.”  
He blinked at her, surprised by her words.   
“What? It's not a date, it's two people enjoying each others company with a meal and a shared academic interest. I don't date. No time.”  
“Good, because I don't date either. No interest.” She retorted.   
“Well, I am not missing this opportunity and I am not letting you out of my sight until your strength returns, so ...” He grimaced playfully at her.  
“So, I can go as your guest or your prisoner.” She finished, sighing.  
“You are smart,” He smirked.  
“Fine; lucky I've always wanted on Observation Hill.” He grinned at her answer.  
“Excellent!”  
A few hours later and they were laying on a blanket on one of the biggest hills, a high powered telescope next to them. She was laying next to him, her eyes on the sky, waiting for the first sign, when she broke the companionable silence.   
“You know, I'm actually surprised you're into things like this.”  
“Mm, what do you mean?”  
“Astronomy is a lot of sitting still and waiting. You strike me as someone who gets bored easily.”  
“I am, exactly. But this is something beautiful that not everyone gets to see. So, that helps me sit and wait, knowing I'm one of the lucky few with the patience to see it.” He answered, looking at her watching the sky.   
“Also, my home life wasn't the best growing up, so I would hide on my roof a lot and look up at the stars, wondering which one would take me away from that awful place.”  
“Wow, I did the same thing; I would sneak out and sit on my roof at night and just lay under the stars.” She admitted, turning her head, blushing darkly when she saw him watching her.  
“Is that why you ran away?” He asked her softly.  
She opened her mouth to answer when a flash in the sky drew her attention.   
“Ooh, it's starting.” They laid there in companionable silence once, watching the skies, neither one surprised when they ended up hand in hand. When it was over, they walked back down the hill, still holding hands. That lasted until the car, when he pulled her into his lap and they rode like that all the way back to her flat.   
“We're not going back to Conduit Street?” She asked him without thinking.  
“No; sadly, I have to get back to work tomorrow. How the devil did you figure out I live on Conduit Street?” He asked her, impressed and a bit annoyed at the same time, taking her chin in his hand gently to face him, studying her features.  
She shrugged, biting her bottom lip in thought.   
“When we got into the car, I smelled the water; I also heard the train which was at least a street away, that means a stop is nearby, and also the particular vinegar that the fish and chips cart uses is unique to the one on the waterfront. There's only one street that has all three features. Conduit Street. The blindfold was a good try though.”   
He grinned at her, softly chuckling as he gently ran his hand through her hair, dislodging practically all the pins until the strands fell half down around her shoulders.  
“Why do I even try with you?”  
Her nose crinkled at his statement.  
“Try to what?” She leaned in, curiously.  
His dark gaze flicked down to her mouth before looking back into her eyes.  
“Keep you at a distance.” He sighed against her mouth, this kiss slow and sweet. They stayed like that until the car pulled up at her flat.   
“I don't suppose I can't invite you upstairs for a cup of tea?” She asked him softly, already slipping off his lap and gathering her things, Molly would be at her Mom's for a few more days, she had the flat to herself.  
He pulled her back to him, purring in her ear.  
“You and I both know we couldn't come back from that.” She nodded, he was right and she tried to ignore that part of herself that asked, did she really care if they couldn't? Gently, he moved her hair to the side, leaving hot open mouth kisses on her neck before he secured a chain around her neck.   
“Dream of me.”   
“Guaranteed.” She sighed, sad that their encounter was over with for the time being. And with that, she was back to reality, although a little less steady on her feet than she would have liked to admit. Unlocking her flat, she went straight to her room, stripping out of her clothes and crawling into bed. She looked down just before she turned the light off, to see the necklace he had selected for her. A white gold angel wing bedecked with black diamonds shone back at her, with one feather still white.


	7. We Both Know How This Ends...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some fluff and then some major angst

Chapter Seven:  
It was Christmas Eve and she tried not to think about him; she really did. Molly was off for the night, going to Sherlock's Christmas To-Do at Baker Street, and she had opted to work yet another year. She loved Christmas and holidays in general, but she had no family to spend them with, well none that didn't want her dead again, so she preferred to be working than be sitting alone watching sad Christmas movies all evening while curled up with her cat. Her phone sat, unlocked, in her lap and she weighed the pros and cons of sending him a text or not. They'd been texting on and off, all this time. There hadn't been any other face to face encounters after that last one though, a fact she was sure he was controlling. Finally, she broke down and sent a message.  
'Merry Christmas, wherever you are. -Memento Mori'  
His reply came minutes after she sent her message.   
'Bah, hum bug. Officially, I am out of the country on business.-xxThe Grinchxx'  
'Aww, so no chance of cuddling up with some cocoa and bad movie marathon? I'm working too.- Memento Mori' She sighed, sending the message and putting her phone down. No reply the whole time she worked the rest of the night, and she sighed again. It had been a dumb idea anyway. 'Hey, Mr. Big Bad Consulting Criminal, technically you're the enemy but let's cuddle.' Pah! Stupid holiday season making her feel all lonely and nearly like a normal human. Leaving the lab when her shift was over, she was floored to see the big black car waiting for her outside. The driver got out, opening the door as she slipped inside. She rose her brows when she saw who's inside.  
“I thought you were out of the country on business.” She grinned up at him, covertly sniffing the white lily he handed her. He shrugged nonchalantly.  
“Officially, I am. Unofficially, I am spending Christmas day at my flat drinking cocoa and cuddling watching... were you talking bad Christmas movies, or just bad movies in general?” He asked her tilting his head to study her, a slight smirk on his lips as she blushed lightly.  
“I meant bad Christmas movies, or just Christmas movies in general. Could I get twenty minutes to shower and change, please? Molly won't be home, she's visiting family today?”  
He nodded, getting the driver's attention and gives them the proper directions. He wanted her as comfortable as possible for what sounded like a good way to spend the night.  
He patiently waited for her as she showered and got situated, Merlin in his lap and Toby, Molly's cat winding around his legs purring up a storm. She slid on a pair of dark wash skinny jeans, a soft red and grey striped asymmetrical collared sweater, and low heeled dark grey suede boots. She dried her hair, leaving it down and waving around her shoulders, the only jewelry the necklace that he gave her. She packed an overnight bag of pajamas and an extra outfit along with toiletries, just in case. Making sure the cats had enough food and water, she rejoined him in the living room, giggling softly as he played with the cats. He looked up at her and his eyes darkened even more.   
“You look beautiful.” She blushed deep crimson, not saying anything as she nibbled her bottom lip, slipping her long black coat on and buttoning it.   
“Are we ready?” She asked him as he gently picked up the cats, removing them from his lap.  
“We are now.” He grinned, taking her hand and leading her out of the flat. She locked the door and followed him back to the car. Gently, he pulled her onto his lap, burying his nose in her hair. He missed that scent.   
“I have to ask, what shampoo and body wash do you use? You have a very unique scent.” He finally asked giving into his curiosity. She sighed.  
“I still smell like work, don't I? It's the chemicals, I'm sorry.” Self consciously, she moved to get off his lap, squeaking when he tightened his hold on her to keep from moving. No. Mine.  
“No, you always smell like peaches and a fresh kill, which is honestly an amazing mixture, and whatever this body wash you used has my mouth watering.” He shrugged, nonchalantly.   
“I use a peach shampoo and conditioner, and a black orchid and juniper oil body wash, the other is just natural. Doesn't matter how much perfume I use, it's always there.” She shrugged, gasping when he buried his face in her neck.  
“It's strongest here. Makes me want to sink my teeth in.”  
Oh dear sweet and fluffy lord! How is she supposed to behave when he says things like that? She schooled her features, putting on a bored face, knowing she can do nothing about her racing pulse beneath his lips and shrugged.  
“That explains your habit of marking me.”   
He laughed softly at her attempt to appear unaffected, gently licking her pulse as she shivered, leaning her head back for him.  
“I mark things that belong to me.” He replied in the most matter of fact way.  
“Am I? Yours?” She asked quietly.  
He didn't answer as the car pulled into the drive of his flat and soon they are in the kitchen making mugs of cocoa and popping popcorn, a small lit and decorated tree twinkling in the corner of the room festively, playfully arguing over the first choice in movies, the question was soon forgotten.  
“How in the hell is Die Hard a Christmas movie?” She demanded playfully.  
“How is Gremlins?” He demanded right back.  
“It's my favorite movie and it all happens on Christmas Eve!” She argued playfully. He held his hand up to silence her.  
“Fine, we'll settle this, rock, paper, scissors.”  
She nodded. It took them five minutes before they stopped playing the exact same thing. (Not a good game for two people who read other people to play.) Groaning, she stretched up on tiptoe and pulled him down for a kiss, grinning when he became thoroughly distracted by her. She pulled back and he looked at her stunned as she took the movies from his hand, a light blush on her cheeks, lips slightly kiss swollen from their passion.  
“Die Hard it is first then.” She put the movie on and then waited for him to sit down before claiming a spot in his lap, dragging the ridiculous sherpa lined throw over the both of them and snuggling in. They spent the entire day like this, cuddled up, watching movies, occasionally kissing, both content to not take things any further. Eventually, they fell asleep, still cuddled up and woke up spooning on the sofa. Christmas dinner for them was Chinese Take away and mulled wine. When it was time to go home again, he pulled her into his lap, her usual spot on car rides. He inched the neckline of her sweater down and kissed her neck, slowly nibbling his way down to her collarbone where he sucked two small marks. She gasped and panted as they pulled up at her flat. God, how she wants him to take things further.  
“Evil.” She panted as he fixed her neckline, chuckling softly, brushing her hair around her shoulders to hide it. He grinned at her.  
“Something to think about.”  
“As if I don't enough already.” His smile turned predatory and his eyes darkened considerably.  
“Run home to Grandma's little girl, or get devoured by the wolf.” She choose the safer option and with a quick peck on the lips, she was out of the car and walking into her building.  
The next few months passed by rather quickly but with less and less messages from him. There was a rather meaningful encounter on Valentine's Day where he saved her life, actually teaming up with John and Sherlock and they found out what they meant to each other, and then even though he promised not to shut her out, he so clearly did. She sighed, she knew whatever this was couldn't last, there was no hope. Still didn't stop her from wishing he would get a hold of her. Then one day, the unthinkable happened. She recieved a hundred red roses delivered to her flat with one word in his impeccable handwriting. 'Sorry.-' That was the day Jim Moriarty was arrested for attempting to steal the crown jewels. She told herself she would absolutely not go to his trial, she did not need to put herself through that when Sherlock asked her to go to observe his behavior for him. Neither of them spoke about her feelings for the man, he needed her solely on a professional level, and she could do that, she lied to herself. She nodded and dutifully donned one of her more demure dresses. Quarter length sleeve and ending just above the knee with pretty black and white roses on the top ending in a blue skirt with a black belt in the middle. She purposefully pinned her hair up, making sure to expose her unmarked neck, a tease for the man since he loved marking her so and her hair being up for easier access for him, and her angel wing necklace. She walked in and took her seat, her cheeks heating slightly when his eyes flew right to her. He looked her up and down slowly as if he wasn't on trial and facing a long time behind bars, his nearly black eyes gleaming when they fell upon her neck, message received. She subtly shook her head, her posture changing to more guarded, and she let him see how hurt she was by all of this for one second before her professional mask was back, and he sighed and listened to the allegations against him. He wasn't worried, he'd rigged the jury. Sure enough, he was declared not guilty and now the real fun could begin.  
He visited Sherlock in his flat and they had an almost civil conversation. He teased him about John, his live in domestic, even mentioned maybe he should get a live in as well. A pair of Amber eyes and a pale throat briefly crossed his mind before he shook it away. He had work to do. No more distractions. He didn't go to her like he burned to, he knew he wouldn't finish his little game if he did. So he hurt them both and stayed away.  
Mori didn't wait for him as she breathed a sigh of relief when he was proclaimed not guilty. She knew that he was not coming to her. She threw the dress she had worn to his trial in the back of her closet as she changed into comfy pajamas and ate ice cream right out of the container as she avoided all news stations and watched horror movies in her flat all day. Molly had no idea of what had went on between them so when she came home, she just figured her flatmate and best friend was depressed and tried her best to help her as Mori laid her head in her friend's lap and wept over missed possibilities.  
All hell had broken loose in the next few months, even Sherlock had been declared a fraud, Moriarty supposedly an actor hired by him to look good. Mori knew the truth, even if everyone including Sherlock doubted himself. There was no way that man was ever made up, Richard Brook was the lie, not James Moriarty. She would know the man she had fallen in love with. She was called away on business for Mycroft that fateful day when the final game happened at St. Bart's. Given the chance, she would have saved them both, and she thought Mycroft knew that so he sent her away. Jim Moriarty was dead. Self inflicted gun shot wound to the head. His body mysteriously vanished so she could not bring him back. Sherlock Holmes jumped off the roof to his death, John Watson being the one who pronounced him dead, his body sped away as well. Fuck you too, Mycroft, consider this her official resignation. She mourned with John and Molly at Sherlock's grave, then went home to secretly cry over the man that nobody else seemed to mourn. Only two people knew what they meant to each other, and one of them died on that roof. The other one died a little inside each day.


	8. Metamorphosis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Do Over? A reunion....and more.  
> I live up to my name in this one :)  
> Welcome to the Lemonade Stand!

The years passed by and the time healed her little by little. Two years passed by, Sherlock Holmes was exonerated, declared a national hero...and was miraculously alive and well. Turned out Molly helped fake his death. She celebrated with everyone over this news and oh my god, John's engaged now, but she couldn't help but wish someone else would have faked his death. The wedding was beautiful, of course, her date a total bore and not going home with her no matter how hard he tried. Baby on the way, everybody celebrate again! Her fake smile hurt her cheeks so she slipped away much like Sherlock did after the first dance, not realizing that she had caught a certain bridesmaid's attention.  
Four years later and everything had changed again. Mary, John's wife was killed and Mori was not able to bring her back, the secret group she had worked for had made sure of that for all their team members and they had a beautiful little girl name Rosamund Mary, Rosie for short. Molly and Sherlock had finally admitted they love each other, (even if it was under duress during the games of Sherlock and Mycroft's criminally insane sister. Still counts dammit!) They'd since started dating then figured out they were better friends, then John finally made a move and he and his Consulting Detective were deliriously happy and it was all adorably awkward. Ever since Mori figured out that Mycroft set her up to be gone that day, she had since quit and was now a Consulting Necromancer, her professional name, Morrigan, the Celtic goddess of death, pretty apt if she thought so herself. She had built a nice little side business, still working in the hospital alongside Molly. They'd since moved into a much nicer flat, away from the ordeal that Molly had been through and Mori had quite a bit saved up in her holiday fund. She only helped cases she felt like, no British government giving the orders anymore. She had enough saved up to take that vacation that she had been planning. She needed to get out of that place for a while, way too many memories that she couldn't seem to escape. She packed her bags, hugged her friends tight and was on her way to Dublin.   
Mori sighed happily as she walked through the cobble stone streets of Dublin, taking in the sights and shops. She'd found a charming little hotel that she'd paid through the week for. She was just about to buy a book she had been reading in the small bookstore when her business ringtone went off. Panic at the disco's Emperor's New Clothes filling the small space. She apologized quickly made her purchase and answered the phone.  
“Morrigan speaking.”  
“Yes, I need you to bring back my boss.”  
“Alright, give me details and I'll decide if I want to take your case.”  
A slight chuckle met her reply and the man took a minute to reply.  
“Oh, you'll want this one. My boss's name was Jim Moriarty.” She dropped the phone and cursed when she bent to retrieve it. Could this be real?   
“Is this a joke? No one knows what happens to his body after his death.” She replied, refusing to hold false hope for some random stranger. She had been looking for years, even hacked into MI5 a few times just to make sure they hadn't taken it.  
“This is no joke. He's buried in the Scholar's Mausoleum in a crypt under the Astrology skylight in Cross Cemetery.” Okay, that actually sounded like something he would have had done.  
“And how do you know this?” She asked the voice, doing her best not to sound too eager. No point in getting all excited only to have her hopes dashed again.  
“Easy, I'm the one who put him there.”  
After a lengthy discussion of payment, she decided she wanted at least 1.5 million quid to even attempt what she would be doing. Someone that had been dead that long and how violently they had gone out, that would take a lot of power to raise, power that only she possessed. She had arranged for that night to be the night the mausoleum was left unlocked. She went back to shower and change immediately, telling herself it didn't matter what she wore, she would not be sticking around after he was risen. If it even was him. Not like he would want her anyway. He had proven that when he went up to that roof. She shimmied into gold lace underwear and a matching bra, a dark blue faded wash skinny jean, with a fluttery cream and chocolate beaded tank top, a dreamy brown tweed jacket with fluttery chiffon and lace details, and a pair of high heeled knee high boots that buckled all along the front. Her nails were painted a dainty gold to match, and her hair was put into a neat bun at the nape of her neck, her angel wing necklace, beaded dangly earrings, and an intricate ring on her middle finger completing the look. She chose a light gold shimmer over her eyes, accentuating the unusual eye color and a wine red lip stick. Okay, so maybe this was a revenge outfit, give her something! She caught a cabbie to the cemetery and obediently listened as he scolded her for traveling alone, 'a pretty young lass like yourself.' He let her out at the gate, and she seamlessly slipped into the last tour of the night, following along until she got to the right mausoleum before she slipped away. As promised, the door was left unlocked and she opened it with little resistance. She found the proper crypt, it was him! She shook away the excitement and anticipation and placed his body on the closed one next to it. Straddling him, she debated on taking her pendant off, she could do it with it on, deciding against it, her finger tip on his temple as she restored his body first any damage the death had caused, and then any decomposition time had caused. Soon he looked just like he did five years ago, and she furiously stamped down her racing heart. He looked like he had simply fallen asleep atop the stone crypt. Covering his eyes with her palm, she sighed, running the other hand over her heart and then his. Covering his mouth with the other palm, she sighed as she spoke, removing the hand over his eyes.  
“Come back to me.”  
He'd been floating in nothingness, and then a heard a voice. That voice. Nah, couldn't be, she was long gone, wasn't she? All of a sudden, he wasn't floating anymore, he was lying on something rough, stone or concrete and a hand was over his mouth. He opened his eyes and blinked twice at the blackness that he still saw. Finally, tiny pinpricks of light were starting to appear in his vision and the hand over his mouth was lifted and he could finally take a deep breath. Breath? Since when do I need to breathe? His vision cleared enough and he finally saw the woman straddling him. Oh, hello there.  
She's had her head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat, making sure its regulated, when she felt a hand running through her hair, scattering the pins again, she let it grow past her shoulders, it now hitting her mid back. She jumped up and saw dark eyes on her. She quickly got off him, running a hand over her hair, attempting to fix the bun. She looked around for the pins he managed to dislodge, watching him warily.   
He sighed, sitting up gingerly, his head was killing him, ha! Get it? But he'll live, again. “You know, there used to be a lot more trust in your gaze.” He sang lightly, slowly moving so that he was sitting on the coffin, his legs dangling off the edge.  
She whirled around on him, clearly taking the bait.   
“Yeah, well last time I didn't know you would pull away and rip my heart out by doing what you did. This time I know better. I brought you back, for a client, this was business which is now concluded.”  
“Right, about that. You never told me you were a necromancer.” His voice is lightly accusing and she has an urge to slap him again. Want to talk about secrets, Jim?  
“You never asked.” She shrugged lightly. “Well, now that you're up and about, my work here is done, try not to get killed again. Have a nice life, Jim Moriarty.” And just like that, she grabbed her jacket, slipping it back on and was walking out of his life.   
“No!” He yelled, raising his hand. The flames shoot out of his finger tips before he had a chance to think, surrounding them both in the building, keeping her with him.   
“Well, that's new!” She called seconds before she walked right into a wall of flame, stopping just in time, she spun around to face him, her hand brushing the flame and they both scream.  
“Ow! Fuck! Wait, what?” They both said in unison, looking at one another. Her eyes went wide and his eyes darkened in curiosity. She gingerly put her fingers close to the fire and they both hissed in pain when her fingers started to hurt. She gasped. No no no no no no! This is not happening! Not with him!   
Hmm, did she use a binding spell on us to make sure I didn't hurt her when she brought me back? Clever little thing. But then, why does she look surprised that it worked? He tilted his head, studying her. “You're different, older, more mature.” She's sexier, her clothes more her style than before.   
She snorted, putting a hand on her hip, rolling her eyes, those lovely Amber eyes he had missed so much.  
“Gee thanks, every girl wants to hear that she looks older. It's been four years.” She replied defensively.  
He shakes his head, going over to her. “No, no you haven't aged a day, honestly.” He meant that, she looked just like before only with longer hair, better clothes, and pain in her gaze. Don't think about that, Moriarty.  
“I meant the way you're carrying yourself is a lot more mature, less self conscious and more sure of yourself. I like it.”   
She blushed lightly, snapping at him. “So glad you approve. Can you ditch the flames, its hot as hell in here.”  
“Depends, are you going to run away again?” He asked her, not letting them up yet.  
“I'm going to try my damnedest.” She shrugged, answering honestly.   
“Wait, try? Why only try?” He questioned her, circling her like a predator. She didn't move, just waited for him to give her an answer. He sighed at last. “Fine.” And just like that, the walls of flame were nothing but smoldering lines on the floor. Huh, handy power to have. That he never told her about, just more lies and secrets.   
She sighed, crossing over one and made it to the door frame. “This is going to suck.” She muttered to herself and left the building with him still inside. The pain hit her so intensely that her knees gave way and she doubled over, the edges of her vision going black. Yup, she thought so. Well, Fuck.  
What the fuck?! He thinks to himself as one of the worst pains hits him out of nowhere, seemingly doubled all of a sudden.  
Okay, that hurts a lot worse than I thought it would, and that proves it. Me and him are linked. Never should have taken this job, what's a million or two worth anymore these days, anyway. Okay, stop wallowing, crawl over thresh hold back to the nice psychopath where its safe. Just a little more, more. And yay, instant relief. Fuck my life, seriously.  
He looked up suddenly when the pain vanished and noticed that Mori was walking back over to him, a grim look on her face.  
“So, I take it we are connected?” He asked her, taking things rather well.  
“Yep.”  
“And you didn't do it.”  
“Nope.”  
“And that we cannot cross thresh holds without each other.”  
“Yep.”  
“So, we have to be at each other's side?”  
“Pretty much.”  
“So, I finally get you at my side after all.” He grinned, walking over to her as she backed herself into the wall gulping at the intensity in his gaze. “Looks like I do get to have my live in!” He purred gleefully.  
She blinked for a minute, a little taken aback at his enthusiasm.  
“Did you just compare us to Watson and Holmes?!” She asked incredulously. Then she shrugged retrieving her phone out of her pocket, unlocking it. “Well, I mean they are a couple now.”  
His eyes widened incredulously at her, following after her as she walks towards the exit.  
“Wait what?!” He had figured, but just when did that happen?  
“Yes, he's right here.” She handed him the phone once they left the mausoleum. He took it putting it up to his ear.  
“Yes?”  
“Boss! It's great to hear your voice. So, dispose of the necromancer, right?” Sebastian Moran asked, clearly having no idea who she is.   
“No! Moran, do not do that! It's Mori. She needs to be protected at all costs. We'll be taking her with us.” He replied quickly and he could clearly hear a rifle being disassembled in the background. How close had he been to not only dying again but losing her?  
“Got it. We'll arrange a pickup in 15. Have her give me her hotel key so I can bring her things to your house.”  
“Heard. 15.” With that he hung up, looking at her.   
“He was going to kill you, by the way. You have the worst taste in guys.” He taunted her handing her her phone back.  
She took it back from him, her fingers brushing his and they both groaned at the spark between them.  
“He had a really sexy voice, what can I say?” She teased him and his dark eyes flashed as he pinned her against the stone wall, an arm on either side of her, leaning close so she had to look up at him.   
“He's married and you are mine.” He replied darkly and she said nothing, licking her lips nervously. His eyes darted to her mouth and he leaned in as her eyes fluttered closed.  
A horn honking at the gate broke them out of their moment and he let her go, for now. Not like she can run very far. He opened the door and she climbed into the car, him following after her. It almost felt like old times.  
“Mori, please give Moran your hotel key and he will bring your things to my flat. You'll be staying there from now on.” She nodded, handing it to him, she was not fighting him on this, good. Wordlessly, she changed her cell number, sighing. She did not need her friends sniffing around until she found a way to break this connection. If there was a way. But for now, she was keeping him far away from them. The very least she could do for bringing him back in the first place.  
They arrived at a huge building and he took her hand, gently leading her out of the car and into the building. He entered a code in the elevator console and the doors slid open. They got in and it rose until they reached the penthouse at the top. It opened at the front door of the penthouse and he entered another code, then produceda key card, grinning at her as he slid it in as the door unlocked. At least this place has a mostly open floor plan. She thought to herself as she looked in awe at the beautiful furnishings and spacious penthouse.  
“Don't sit down, we need to shower first.” He ordered her and she nodded, too tired to fight him, her hand still in his as he tugged her into the bathroom, shutting the door behind them. She hopped up on the bathroom counter, slipping her jacket and boots off as she took her jewelry off, undoing her hair, one pin at a time and looking up at Jim, raising an eyebrow.  
“Can I help you?”  
He shrugged insolently leaning on the opposite counter.   
“Oh, just waiting for the rest to come off.” He purred, looking her up and down lazily.  
Her eyes flashed as she hopped off the counter, and poked him in the chest, hard.  
“Let's get one thing straight, I am not yours. We are not picking up where we left off four years ago. We are connected, I am here to keep us both safe, that is all. As far as I'm concerned, we aren't even friends.” She backed off after that and he rubbed his chest where she poked.  
“How bad did I hurt you?” He asked her softly and for a minute, he saw behind her carefully constructed mask, lip quivering, eyes starting to shine with unshed tears, more than you know, then she blinked and it was all gone. “I'll take the first shower, no peeking.” He nodded, still stunned and she stepped into the shower without turning it on, fully clothed. A few seconds later, she tossed her clothes out and turned the water on. It wasn't long before the hot water steamed up the bathroom and the scent of his shampoo hit him. She took her time, scrubbing every inch of her smooth skin. Turning the water off, she grabbed two fluffy towels, wrapping one around her body and one around her hair. She stepped out.  
“All yours.” She sighed in passing him.  
You were once, weren't you? And I chose not to see it. He thought to himself, watching her.  
He nodded, stripping out of his suit once her back was turned and taking a luxuriously long hot shower. A knock on the bathroom door notified them that her things are here and she opened the door to her suitcase being directly on the thresh hold as instructed. She rifled through it, grabbing a pair of jean shorts and a black henley with skull shaped shell buttons, her underthings are little skull and crossbones, black and white cotton. She dresses while he is still in the shower and combed through her wet hair, putting it in low pigtails. She hopped back on the counter and waited not so patiently for him to be done so she could leave this room. She always got out of breath in hot and steamy bathrooms if it wasn't her under the water. He finally finished wrapping a towel around his hips, it riding low, and he smirked when he caught her staring. She blushed and turned her head away, scoffing. His eyes went up her bare legs and he started whistling softly. “Interesting choice dear,”  
She shrugged, still not looking at him. “I'm burning up.”  
“That's funny because I'm freezing and starving.”  
She nodded, “Honestly, that's normal, you've been dead quite some time, you'll crave the creature comforts. Food, warmth.”  
“Sex.” He practically purred, his hand dragging a nail up her leg as she moved away, unable to stop the shudder that went through her, hopping off the counter, opening the door as he sighed at her resistance, leading her out into a huge closet, looking through his clothes. He decided on a white jumper and blue jeans, he'll wear a suit tomorrow, tonight he just wants to be warm. Dressing quickly, as she unpacked her bag into a dresser opposite his, he took her hand once more tugging her into the kitchen and taking the phone off the wall, dialing the front desk.  
“Order two of whatever you want, I'll eat it. I am starving!” He handed her the phone and she ordered a simple meal, salad, steak, baked potatoes, steamed veggies, and Tiramisu. Sounded like heaven. The food arrived and was on the table in no time as they dug in. He moaned at the taste, and she dropped her fork. Blushing, she bent down to retrieve it. “So, the day Moran took you to my flat when you passed out on the street, you weren't just communicating with spirits were you?” He asked her out of the blue and she shook her head, chewing the bite of steak she just taken. “I had to raise all sixty eight victims temporarily so Sherlock could interview them and we still never solved that case. It went without saying that I couldn't tell you what I was, you would have had me killed.” She admitted at last.  
“Ugh, so predictable, I would have seduced you and gotten you to work for me.” He corrected her, a wicked grin on his lips, waving the steak knife as he gestures.  
She sighed, finishing off her salad. “I'm tired of being used like a tool or a weapon by powerful men, to be honest.”  
He leaned in, resting his chin on his hand. “I noticed you weren't Mycroft's ingenue anymore, care to tell me why?” He doesn't waste time with small talk. She always loved that about him, why chat on the weather when there are much more important things to discuss.  
“He set me up, that day, made sure I was far away so I couldn't have helped either one of you. Then there was an incident where I was kidnapped and he refused to help me, said the risk was not worth the reward, I nearly died. After that, I was done. I made a name for myself, and I decide who I work for, if I don't feel like helping, I recommend one of those crusty old men who practice dark magics to do what I do naturally. I guess now that you're alive you'll be gunning for Sherlock again?” She sighed, eating the last bite of broccoli. She was hungrier than she thought.   
“No, I mean, in due time he will come to me, I'm sure of it, but I'll be rebuilding my web, Moran's kept it up, but there are places that are weak or gone thanks to Sherlock.” He watched her eat the dessert, her tongue darting out to lick a bit that got on her lip and he made it a mission to know what it tastes like off her lips.   
“So, how did he survive? Ah, Mycroft, tricky tricky.” He guessed and she does not correct him.  
She nodded, licking her spoon, her eyes fluttering closed and he had to grab the table to keep from pouncing her.   
“You're playing with fire.” He warned quietly as she licked her spoon one last time, standing up and taking her dirty dishes to the kitchen. Putting her headphones in, she turned on Pandora on her phone and started scrubbing the dishes, mostly to distance herself as much as she could from him. He walked his dishes over to her, setting them beside the sink and padded over to the living room, finding his phone from four years ago in a side drawer, he was pleasantly surprised to find it still on and active, Thank you, Moran. 292 text messages, he settled back and started reading.  
Mori mentally smacked herself, what the hell was she doing teasing him? She had slipped back into old habits, and she hated to admit that she had missed his eyes darkening and that little catch in his voice when he was speaking that betrayed his arousal. Hand washing the dishes, she took her frustrations out on the cutlery.   
[How could you?-MM]  
[Hey, two days after the rooftop, and its my birthday and the one person I want to spend it with I can't...so thanks for that.-MM]   
[Just so you know, you killed three people on that roof.-MM]  
[Merry Christmas, thanks to you I can't watch Die Hard or Gremlins anymore without feeling your arms around me. I owe you one.-MM]  
[Sherlock's back...why can't you be?-MM]  
[John got married today, had to pretend my heart wasn't breaking all over again. They played that song we danced to and I ended up breaking down in the bathroom. If I didn't love you so much, I'd hate you.-MM]  
[Had a date tonight, couldn't even let him hold my hand. I can't pretend anyone else will make me happy.-MM]  
[John and Mary had a baby, fake smile time. But I get to babysit, so that's something.-MM]  
[Mary died today...I wish it was me instead..-MM.]  
[Almost got my wish, being kidnapped and tortured not my exit of choice, but hey, beggars can't be choosers...saved myself last minute but the nightmares are probably permanent-MM]  
[Sherlock and John finally admitted it to each other have to say, you called it. Mrs. Hudson knew too.-MM]  
[Four years today, you're still gone. I still love you. Everyone else is so happy, I can't stay here much longer...and I don't mean London.-MM]  
[Leaving London, too many memories...maybe your ghost won't follow me somewhere else.-MM]   
He put the phone down, stunned and walked over to her. She still had her hands in the sink, scrubbing and her music blaring. He spun her around, both hands framing her face as he devoured her mouth, pouring all emotion into his kiss. She was stunned, standing there, before she pulled him to her with soapy hands, standing on tiptoe, pulling him closer. He backed away slightly to kiss down her jaw to her neck.   
“I had no idea. The messages.” He whispered against her skin just before marking it, grinning against her skin as she moaned softly and leaned her head to the side to give him better access.  
“You weren't supposed to.” She replied, knowing immediately what he's talking about, pulling his head back up, and kissing him roughly. He growled softly as he pulled back, lifting her shirt over her head, then his sweater before pulling her back to his arms. Still kissing her, he lifted her up in his arms and carried her to the bedroom, her bra falling to the floor on the way there, dropping her onto the king size bed before covering her body with his own. He breaks the kiss long enough to start unbuttoning her shorts,pulling them down, undoing his own jeans as well. “The next time will be slow and loving, I just need you right now.” He groaned when he felt how wet she was through her panties just before he slid them off. Finally both of them naked, he took her mouth in a fiery kiss, plunging inside her the same time his tongue invaded her mouth. She moaned into his mouth, sucking on his tongue as her nails dug into his back, wrapping her legs around him, to pull him closer to her.   
“Fuck, you're tight, and so warm.” he gasped through clenched teeth and she blushed crimson at his words. He didn't realize this connection would make him feel everything he was doing to her too. Oh, my god....  
He sped up and she threw her head back in ecstasy, her nails dragging crimson trails down his back marking him. He growled at the sensations, diving for her neck again, biting down until he tasted a trace of blood. Next her collarbone, then right above one breast. She's spasming hard around him with each bite and when he sunk his teeth into the side of her neck that he'd once scratched his initial into, she came screaming. Riding her orgasm out, he grabbed her hips hard, changing the angle of his thrusts, loving the sounds that were coming out of her mouth. She leaned up to kiss him again and he decided he wanted to play a bit, as gently but firmly he put a hand on her neck, pushing her back down to the pillows and she leaned her head back for him, melting for him. “Hmm,” He purred, squeezing her neck with the tiniest bit more pressure as she clenched down around him even harder than before.   
“Mm, little thing likes to play rough.” She nodded and he grinned as he grabbed her wrists, pinning them above her head, lightly slapping them once. “Stay.” She nodded as he gently tightened his hand around her throat, picking his punishing rhythm back up. She screamed her release, pulling him closer and he groaned when her nails found his back again. Hey... “What did I say about staying?” He asked her, raising one dark eyebrow in a look that has made grown men run and hide. She shrugged unaffected, and he tightened his hand in warning as she writhed against him. Thoroughly enjoying herself.  
“What can I say, I'm a Brat, you want me on my knees you're going to have to put me there yourself.” She explained, grinning.  
Oh, goody, a challenge. Full dominant mode activated now and he smiled a smile that was all wicked intentions and sharp teeth. He pinned her hands above her head, squeezing her throat in warning once.  
“Stay still, or I stop.” He whispered against her other collarbone, sucking and biting a mark into it hard. She gasped but stayed still and his hand stayed on her neck, while his other traveled down her body and found her clit, stroking it until she found her release yet again, whimpering at the intense sensations. She was not used to that many orgasms in that fast of a succession, his following close behind. Immediately, he took her in his arms, pulling her close and just held her, burying his face in her hair. She pants and trembles in his arms, sighing happily, content for the first time in four years.  
“That was about six years overdue.” He whispered against her hair, and she nodded.   
Grinding her ass against him playfully, she chuckled evilly when he groaned. “I gave you plenty of opportunities.” She reminded him, continuing to tease him as he growled in warning, his hand closing gently over her hip, stroking the two brands on her right hip he had no idea were even there. A skull, grinning widely and an ornate crown on top. She shivered lightly, biting her bottom lip and he groaned as the connection made him feel everything. He stroked them again and she shuddered, melting against him.  
“These are incredibly sexy.” He whispered, kissing down her neck and she whimpered in need.  
“Thanks, I hated them at first, but they're slowly growing on me.” She gasped when he bit down hard, adding to the mark on her neck, angling her so she now had four marks on her neck, making a perfect 'M'. She writhed against him, and he pushed inside her, making both of them gasp as he took her slowly and sensually this time, turning her head to kiss her deeply. His hand wrapped around her throat, gently holding her in place as she whimpered into his mouth sucking on his tongue. Growling in approval, he lifted her leg, bending it at the knee to change the angle and depth of thrusts as he pounded into her. Screaming, she came hard and fast, her muscles milking his shaft as he came with a low growl, sinking sharp teeth into her shoulder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! I am several chapters ahead so I will update when I can!  
> Read and Enjoy!  
> Also reviews give me life!


	9. Game Changer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mori meets the family and Jim asks a question

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I am horrible with keeping things updated but I am trying my best here. Enjoy! Read and Review!

She woke up to loud purring in her ear and warm arms wrapped around her tightly. There was a conversation going on and she heard her name mentioned several times before groggily opening her eyes. She squeaked when she saw that they were not alone, a man and woman in the room, the woman standing in the closet, looking through Mori's dresses that had not been hung up before, the man sitting on the sofa close to the bed, drinking a mug of coffee calmly . She grinned when she saw that she was awake at last, making her way over to her. Jim pulled her close, his lips against her ear making her shiver.   
“Careful, she can smell fear.” He stage whispered in amusement.   
Mori blinked, still groggy. “What? Merlin!” She exclaimed, when the white cat batted at her head, meowing for attention. The other woman giggled at Jim, plucking him on the forehead.  
“Ow.”  
“Ow.”  
They both exclaimed and she laughed, clapping her hands delightedly, tilting her head at them curiously.  
“Interesting. So, you're the necromancer that's linked to my brother.” She observed, offering a friendly smile to the other woman.  
Mori's nose crinkled in concentration, why was everything so fuzzy? Why did she expect a full conversation first thing in the morning?  
Brother? Why do I know her?  
Oh crap, words, Mori, use your words. Time to show off that superior intellect.  
“Yep.” She said simply causing the other woman to erupt into a fit of giggles. The man sighed deeply, stepping out momentarily, returning with a dark mug of something that smelled heavenly as he brought it over to Mori.  
“Here, I'm the same way without this first thing in the morning. Moriartys don't need this to function, we do. I'm Sebastian Moran, Jim's second in command, number one sniper, and brother in law. We met before, but you were unconscious at the time. Sorry about planning to kill you.” He grinned widely as she took the mug, sipping it gratefully. Oh my god, this was the designer stuff! She drained the mug, handing him the empty one back, smiling in gratitude. The caffeine hit her system and she could do that using words in sentences thing again.  
“You must be the one who was following me around during The Great Game days. Nice to finally meet you, and thanks for not letting me get ran over that time. Or actually killing me.” He nodded smiling then wincing as his wife elbowed him gently out of the way, beaming at her once again. Now that her brain was working properly, she finally got a good look at her.  
Holy crap!  
“I know you! You were at the wedding! You followed me into the bathroom when I broke down too. Janine, right?”  
She shakes her head smiling.  
“That was just a made up name, I'm Juliette Moriarty, well Moran now, but still.” She smiled, fiddling with her wedding ring absently.  
“But, you were like dating Sherlock for six months he used you to get to Magnussen's office. Damn, you're good! So, all those things I said in the bathroom that night, that you reminded me of someone, I wasn't far off.”  
She grinned at this, her dark eyes twinkling with mischief.  
“Honestly, your dress drew my attention to you, black at a wedding where all the other women wore pastel, clearly in mourning for someone. I was mainly there to play a part for Sherlock, but I was also looking for the woman my brother hadn't stopped talking about. I didn't even realize it was you until the bathroom incident. You have lovely fashion sense by the way, I love your dresses selection, very vintage without being too cheesy.” Her eyes lit up mischievously. Uh-oh. “You should let me help you dress today.” She suggested excitedly.  
Dressing right, she was still naked under the sheet. She covertly tried to pull the sheet away from Jim to wrap around herself and growled softly when the sheet didn't budge and he clicked his tongue at her playfully.   
“You're not the only one who's not decent here.” He sang.  
She nodded, sighing. “Sure, after a nice shower, that doesn't sound too horrible.” She tugged the sheet one more time, rewarded with an amused chuckle, but still no sheet.  
Jim let her go and leaned down by the bed, handing her his sweater, thankful that she scooped up their trail of clothes in between rounds the night before. She scooted under the covers, slipping it over her head, pulling it down to mid thigh, relieved that it covered all important bits. Resurfacing to his sister standing right next to the bed and jumped lightly. He sighed.  
“Jules, a little space please, she's not used to your lack of respecting personal boundaries yet.” He teased her lightly as she rolled her dark eyes dramatically. “Well, she needs to be, shes family now after all.” Merlin purred his agreement, plopping down in her lap as she perched at the head of the bed. He sighed in irritation.   
“I hadn't gotten a chance to discuss all that yet.” He said quietly, sitting up, gently pulling Mori into his lap. Her head still spinning from all the activity.  
“First off, how did Merlin get here, and the rest of my things. Oh, dear god, what have ya'll done to Molly?” She gasped, truly horrified for her best friend and former roommate.  
The brunette rolled her eyes playfully at her.   
“I walked right in, told her you would be with us now and asked for all your things. She was so sweet, she even offered me tea and cookies. I also told her not to worry or be sad and that you would be in touch. She is perfectly safe.” She shrugged elegantly.  
Mori tilted her head, studying her. “Holy hell, you're the Would You Kindly that we were trying to find! The unsolved case!” She used a term from one of her favorite video game franchises and Moran high fived her from the sofa.   
“I was told I'm a Pusher, but I much prefer your term, I think I'll keep that. It's no power, I just have a calming influence about me is all. Makes people a bit more agreeable.” Her dark eyes sparkled with delight. Then she focused her attention on her brother.   
“And you haven't talked to her yet? You need to! And then we need to go shopping and plan!” She whined and he glared at her as her and Sebastian walked out of the room to finally give them some privacy, the door shutting behind them. He sighed as she slipped off his lap, turning to face him. “Haven't told me what yet?” She raised an eyebrow at him and he groaned. So much for taking his time with bringing this topic up.   
Dammit Juliette Moriarty Moran whatever! He sighed, running a hand through his hair, trying to think up how he wanted to do this. “Let's take a nice shower and then let Jules dress you and then I'll tell you, alright?” He asked her, looking into her eyes lovingly.  
Sensing his inner turmoil, she nodded, following him through the closet into the bathroom.  
The water had turned cold long before they were through kissing and washing one another; laughing they turned it off, wiping freezing cold water off each other, and wrapping each other in fluffy towels. Juliette was back in the room, rifling through Mori's clothes, looking for the perfect outfit for the day. A few outfits were laid neatly on the bed, and Mori saw the little black dress that she bought on impulse with no intentions of wearing it ever and balled it up, tossing it back into the closet quickly. Juliette laughed retrieving it, smoothing it out, carefully.  
“You can wear that tonight, to celebrate.” She grinned, so excited she was practically bouncing on her heels.  
She shook her head, clearly confused. “Celebrate what?”  
Juliette glared, grabbing her hand and staring at it, her eyes flashing, she whirled around on Jim.  
“James Kieran Moriarty, you didn't tell her yet? Why the hell not!” She demanded, stomping her foot.  
“Because, she agreed to let us get showered and dressed while I figured out how to put the words together!” He yelled back.   
Mori tried not to chuckle at the siblings as she reached for the black dress again, since they were so distracted.  
“Drop it.” She dropped it, obediently. What. The. Fuck. Well, now we know it works on me too.  
“I had planned for this to go a whole other way and I refuse to do this in nothing but a damn towel on!” Jim finished, clearly winning, (meaning that Juliette had allowed him to win, and they both knew it!) She grabbed Mori's hand and dragged her into the closet with the small selection of clothes to try on and he had to hurry to avoid the pain of being on the wrong side of the threshhold.  
“I feel like a damn Barbie Doll.” Mori complained after the third outfit had been tried on and discarded. Juliette rolled her dark eyes and helped her into the long pleated tan skirt. “Oh, quit complaining, trust me, you are going to want to look pretty for this, not that you don't already, Jamie really knows how to pick them. He used to go on and on about you. Apparently you even outwitted him a few times.”  
“More than a few, she used to be on Team Sherlock, apparently she would undo a lot of my hard work.” He piped up, reappearing from his side of the closet in a suit that made her mouth dry, still adjusting his tie.  
Oh. My. Gods. Her eyes widened and she let out a small whimper that had him chuckling at her reaction, raising a dark eyebrow at her as he licked his lips, completely ignoring his sister. “Missed me?” He asked her playfully.   
Juliette rolled her eyes, helping her into the white tank top, tan fitted jacket, and six inch wedge sandals she had picked out to go with the outfit. She picked her hair up to style it and gasped at the marks on her neck.  
“Bloody hell, is that an M?” Mori blushed crimson and Jim cackled, sitting at his dressing table, watching the women. Muttering, she walked back into the closet, coming back with a pretty floral infinity scarf and wound it around the collar, covering the worst of the marks. She then resumed to put her hair up artfully in a messy french twist, a few strands made to hang down. She secured a crystal headband and stepped back, pleased with herself. Makeup was light and fun still, and soon Mori was finally finished.   
“Now, I will leave you two alone, to talk. Don't make me make you tell her.” She warned, sweeping out of the room on impossibly high heels and a designer pant suit that cost more than Mori's old flat.  
Mori sat down at her vanity, biting her bottom lip lightly, her eyes still sweeping over him in the suit.  
“So, she's kind of scary.”  
He chuckled lightly, going over to her. “I told you.”  
“What did you want to tell me?” She asked him, unable to wait anymore.  
He took her hands in his, marveling not for the first time how they just seem to fit together.   
“I screwed up. We had that wonderful Christmas together, and I promised not to pull away when you were poisoned that Valentine's Day and then I pulled away. I thought you were a distraction I didn't need and I hoped if I pulled back, you would get hurt but you would move on. I was wrong. I should have visited you after the trial, called, something. I know you did what you did to goad me at the trial and dammit it almost worked, I was halfway to your place before I changed my mind. I honestly thought I could win the game. I had planned to come to you one more time after that and ask you a question. Then things went a bit....off script.” He reached into his suit jacket pocket and pulled out a dusty box, blowing on it, before opening it, not giving her a chance to argue over what he had just said. The ring was beautiful, white gold with an emerald colored Alexandrite oval ringed with diamonds with three more on each side. She gasped lightly when she saw it, completely stunned.  
He didn't get down on one knee, he didn't have to, this had the same desired effect, her hands still in his as he grinned at her softly, loving the fact that he had made her speechless.  
“Morgana Isobel Masters, will you marry me?”


End file.
